


Beauty

by TeaRoses



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-10
Updated: 2010-01-10
Packaged: 2017-10-06 02:05:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeaRoses/pseuds/TeaRoses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry finds out why Ron is troubled after the war.  WARNING for self-injury (not for emotional reasons.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beauty

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for a LiveJournal challenge: "Harry or Ron gets ill or hurt." Written in 2004, not compliant with later canon.
> 
> The plot is completely my own, but I must thank the great Yasuhiro Nightow, creator of Trigun, for a certain amount of general inspiration.

Ron was sitting under the trees again, watching the others practice Quidditch. Even Charlie was still up for a game, but Ron would always sit them out these days. It seemed he was just waiting for nothing.

Harry was more worried than anyone. The war had spared no family, and despite the fact that Percy had never returned to his family they mourned his loss deeply. Many of their Hogwarts compatriots were also dead, and so were many teachers and Order members including Remus Lupin. Others had fled the war to smaller places with fewer wizards and might never return though Voldemort had been vanquished. Hermione herself was on a mission on Dumbledore's orders to make contact with those who were still hiding out.

There was more than enough reason for Ron to be withdrawn and moody, but Harry knew there was something else, something that had conquered Ron's natural cheerfulness and optimism. He knew he would need to talk to his friend soon but even after all these years they were more suited to banter than deep discussion and Harry didn't know how to bring the subject up.

On the next of his constant visits to the Burrow, Harry noticed Ron's bed empty one night. This time he decided to seek his friend out and see what sort of conversation he could start.

Ron was sitting under the trees, just as he did during the day, as Harry approached. He looked up bleakly. When Harry asked to sit down Ron nodded and gestured.

They sat silently for a moment, and finally Harry said, "Ron... I know I was too busy to help you much... at the end, and right after."

Ron shrugged. "You were defeating Voldemort, Harry, and cleaning up afterwards. You could hardly make me your first priority."

Harry looked off to the dark horizon. "Maybe I should have. I didn't even know what was happening to you."

He looked into Ron's eyes then. "I still don't."

"We never had time to tell each other our stories," said Ron.

"Well, mine spread fast enough. A huge battle of Order members versus Death Eaters and in the end they immobilized Voldemort so my curse could hit him. I never thought you needed to hear it from me personally. But you... Bellatrix Lestrange had you in that room, didn't she? And then everything happened so fast. I didn't see you again until it was all over and you were clinging to life in the hospital. I never dared ask what she did to you or why you didn't kill her for it."

Ron looked startled. "Why I didn't kill her? You could tell me that, you who never killed anyone but him. Kingsley Shacklebolt had her immobilized in the end, if I had killed her then you never would have spoken to me again."

Harry moved closer to Ron and put a hand on his shoulder. "I'm not sure you could do anything that would make me do that."

Ron covered Harry's hand with his own but still didn't look directly at him.

"She is a Legilimens. Bellatrix is."

"I know that, Ron..."

"She couldn't find out where her master was, or what you were doing to him, so she cornered me in that little annex, and started in on me. She had my feet planted to the floor, and she was looking at me. I knew she could see everything in my mind, then. I know no Occlumency, hardly anyone does but you and Snape. So I was screaming, trying to block her out, and she was still staring at me with those damn dark eyes. She cast a spell on my mouth then, and I almost panicked."

Harry moved closer then, and put his arm around Ron. Ron lay his head on Harry's shoulder and continued to speak.

"I had my wand, but even before she shut my mouth I could never have outdone Bellatrix Lestrange. But I also had a knife."

Harry nodded. "But you couldn't reach her with it."

Ron shook his head. "No, but for myself... the pain would block the thoughts out, and she wouldn't know where you were. So I reached under my shirt, and I started cutting."

Harry gave a small gasp. One of his hands moved into Ron's hair.

"At first I don't think she realized what I was doing. I could tell she wasn't getting my thoughts, because she was getting angrier. So I just kept doing it, until finally the blood was soaking my shirt and she must have figured it out."

Harry turned Ron's face toward him then and tried to look into his eyes, but Ron just buried his face in Harry's shoulder. Harry put his hand in Ron's hair and just sat there, hoping the rest wasn't any worse.

"I cut pretty deeply, Harry, to make sure it would hurt enough. She stood there as if she were enjoying it, and then Kingsley got there and stopped her. He was talking, while he was taking her wand away, about how it was all over. But she cast something else first, while she was struggling and he was taking her away."

"Cast what?"

"I didn't know, until they got me to the hospital. It was a spell like they used to make the Dark Mark, but worse. The scars from what I did, they'll never go away."

Harry was still holding Ron against him now, stroking his head gently, trying to think about all this and feeling a small portion Ron had felt.

"I knew you were bandaged up, but I thought..."

"You've never seen me since, have you? Never seen me change my clothes, anything like that?"

Harry thought. "No, I never thought about it much... we weren't swimming or anything..."

Ron sighed. "I can't ever show anyone myself again. Who would understand? Hermione might have, she's like that... but I'd never have showed her anyway..."

"What about me?"

"I don't know... I thought you might, too, then I thought you wouldn't." His voice was muffled against Harry's shoulder.

"Show me then." The green-eyed boy's voice was determined. "It's my goddamn fault, show me."

Ron was shaking his head and crying. "It isn't your fault, Harry." But he was unbuttoning his shirt.

The scars were reddish and shocking; they were all over Ron's chest and stomach. All Harry could think of was the pain that led to them and the horrible fact that Ron evidently felt himself ugly now.

"So you can accept something as horrible as this?"

Harry stared. "Do you really have to ask? Even if it hadn't been done for the reason it was, how could you even ask me?"

He reached out, and traced the scars gently with his fingertips. Ron closed his eyes.

Harry leaned in then and ran his mouth along one of the scars. Ron gave a puzzled look.

"Don't do that. Not out of pity, that's... wrong."

"I don't pity you, Ron Weasley. I love you, and you know that."

The different possibilities of the word "love" were running through Harry's mind, but he was certain Ron knew what he meant, even after all these years and all that had gone unsaid.

He returned to kissing Ron's chest and listened only to Ron's shallow breathing. He thought for a moment that everything was different now, then decided it was really all the same, just as it should always have been.

"I'll always think you're beautiful, Ron. Always. Take it as you will."

Ron took Harry's chin then, and kissed him on the lips for the first time. "I'll take it all the ways you can think of."


End file.
